Sounds that are so good that they deserve to be a word:

Pollop – it’s nearly dollop, there’s already a pollock but pollop should be it’s own thing. It steers delightfully close to being simply plop but you need to hit that second “o” to make sure it’s not mistaken for polyp.

Kint – “k” is universally acknowledged as the funniest letter (thanks Krustie) but there are remarkably few words that start with, or even contain “k” (thanks Google). We need more and that’s what kint is for.

Blome – the joy of this word is that clearly the puerile will pronounce it “blow me”, but us adults will tut at them and know that the word is pronounced blowm. What does it mean? Who knows? But if you don’t like it, blome.

Prendergast – yes it’s a surname already and also possibly a place in Gloucester, but Prendergast has too much upper-class richness to not be used as an actual word. It could be the name of a type of glass, or a noun meaning the uncomfortable feeling when you’ve eaten too much swan.

Tutbut – our first rhyming word, but the third that plays on slightly puerile soundings – did that guy just say touch butt? No, he said tutbut – possibly someone who interrupts with unwanted parental advice. “I don’t mean to be a tutbut Gary, but you can’t use a hairdryer while you’re still in the bath.” “Don’t be such a tutbut Dad.”

Sounds that are so good that they deserve to be a word:

Pollop – it’s nearly dollop, there’s already a pollock but pollop should be it’s own thing. It steers delightfully close to being simply plop but you need to hit that second “o” to make sure it’s not mistaken for polyp.

Kint – “k” is universally acknowledged as the funniest letter (thanks Krustie) but there are remarkably few words that start with, or even contain “k” (thanks Google). We need more and that’s what kint is for.

Blome – the joy of this word is that clearly the puerile will pronounce it “blow me”, but us adults will tut at them and know that the word is pronounced blowm. What does it mean? Who knows? But if you don’t like it, blome.

Prendergast – yes it’s a surname already and also possibly a place in Gloucester, but Prendergast has too much upper-class richness to not be used as an actual word. It could be the name of a type of glass, or a noun meaning the uncomfortable feeling when you’ve eaten too much swan.

Tutbut – our first rhyming word, but the third that plays on slightly puerile soundings – did that guy just say touch butt? No, he said tutbut – possibly someone who interrupts with unwanted parental advice. “I don’t mean to be a tutbut Gary, but you can’t use a hairdryer while you’re still in the bath.” “Don’t be such a tutbut Dad.”